


Through His Lens

by cherrylove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylove/pseuds/cherrylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is given a video-camera by Melissa to capture his and Lydia's life together in Boston and he captures every moment he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through His Lens

That stupid camera was attached to Stiles’ side from the moment Melissa gave it to him at the gates of security. She wanted him to document everything and make sure to send copies of the videos he edited back every couple months. Lydia’s mother was a pretty big advocate of the idea of the videos as well. The whole pack was seeing them off to college in Boston. She was headed to Boston University for Biomedical Engineering and Stiles was going to Emerson College for Political Communications. She rolled her eyes as he began to rove over the camera with his fingers and begin to figure what all it could do. She said goodbye to everyone and shared a long hug with her mom. While she felt better about sending her across the country with Stiles at her side, her mother was still feeling nervous and sad. They shared cheek kisses and soon she and Stiles were making their way through security. 

The videos didn’t start until they made it to their terminal. It was mostly him video taping the people around them and a little bit of her while she tried to read one of the books on her reading list for her intro engineering class. They filed onto the plane and found their seats. He filmed for basically the entire flight. Later that month, she found the video from the airport on his computer when her screen was being fixed and damn it if he didn’t film her sleeping. One of her hands resting on her textbook, her head resting against the window, and her chest rising and falling slowly, she hated to be filmed while she was sleeping. She also hated that he filmed her while her hair was messy and slightly greasy piled up on top of her head in a bun and while she wore worn in yoga pants and an oversized sweater. She hated to look anything else than put together, but she knew that he was excited about this first video and left it alone. Mixed in with the airport video was a video of them setting up in their top floor apartment of the walk-up they decided on during a long process of emails and phone calls and video walkthroughs. It moved from a video of both of them setting up the bed to her putting the kitchen together and then to her throwing pillows at him while she was making the bed. It moved from there into a video of him scanning over the dishware her mom sent with them to use and Lydia standing at the stovetop making a simple pasta dish for dinner. The video represented a start of their lives as live-in boyfriend and girlfriend. She let him keep the video as it was. It was their beginning through his lens. 

Stiles videoed her as they rode the subway for the first time into central Boston to go to school, occasionally turning it on both of them when he made her laugh or leaned in for a kiss. He videoed her walking down the busy Boston sidewalks to the intersection where they had to separate while she cast dirty looks behind her and strangers gave them nasty looks while they kissed goodbye and joked together before heading to their colleges. Those first couple of months she resisted the recording of their daily life, but soon fell into the easy routine of ignoring the camera. Lydia paid no attention to it as it sat on their bed filming them as they studied late into the night. It took part in their movie nights and filmed their popcorn wars. It recorded the way in which they always fell asleep on the couch on movie nights with Lydia curled up between Stiles’ legs and Stiles holding her close to his chest while he snored softly. It was a silent observer to the tricks he played on her and the times when she burned dinner and he had to throw together something to salvage their meal for the night. It was also an observer to the hours that Stiles spent at Emerson or in their apartment alone while she spent hours in labs or in the tutoring center. The beginning of their imperfect routine was captured through his lens. 

Well into their third of year living in Boston, the camera became an easier part of their life. He still carried it everywhere, but Lydia welcomed it more easily. She began to see the opportunity to give everyone a view of their life together in Boston and began to play along. She laughed easier, pointed out places they loved to go, and occasionally danced around the city in front of the camera on the nights they went out like a couple not consumed by their studies. She waved to the camera and smiled shyly at it. She became more relaxed and honestly forgot the camera was there most of the time. It was a part of their daily lives. 

Lydia returned to their apartment from her last class on Thursday and closed the door behind her, setting her bag on the bench to the left of the door. 

“Stiles? I’m home. Where are you?” she asked, moving through the apartment. 

“Bedroom babe!” he called out. 

She furrowed her brow before looking down at the watch on her wrist. It was a gift from Stiles for being valedictorian of their graduating class. It was almost 6 o’clock and normally Stiles was in the kitchen making dinner by now. 

“Did dinner plans change?” she asked, stepping into their bedroom. 

“You could say that,” he told her, stepping out of the closet, tying his tie clumsily. 

Lydia walked over to him and shooed his hands away before taking over tying his tie. She tied it, smoothed it out and kissed his cheek, “There you are.” 

He smiled his goofy, crooked smile at her, “You should get dressed or we’ll miss our reservations.” 

“Reservations? Where are we going?” she asked. 

“Do you remember that Spanish fusion place you liked so much on the Hill?” Stiles asked her. 

Lydia nodded, “Yeah of course. Why? We’re not going there are we?” 

Stiles nodded, “We are. I thought we deserved something special since we’ve been working so hard at school.” 

A bright smile spread across her face and she kissed him deeply before moving to their closet. She fished through it for a simple black dress with a scalloped neckline that ended a little below mid-thigh. She put a jeweled belt on below her bust line. She looked through the cubbies that held her shoes and picked out a bright teal pair with a black bow on the open toe. She picked up her jacket, set it on the bed, and moved into their bathroom to put on a pair of earrings and touch up her hair. She put in an embellished bobby pin before leaving the bathroom to join Stiles. He held her jacket out for her and she slipped her arms into it. She picked up her purse from the bench behind the door as they left their apartment. 

Stiles and Lydia walked down the street and waved down a passing cab. They slipped in side, holding hands and whispering about their days. She was digging for a piece of gum when she realized something was missing from their date night. 

“Stiles? Where’s your camera?” she asked. 

“Oh, charging at home. I was an idiot and forgot to recharge my back-up batteries and the one in the camera died, so it’s a camera-less date for once,” he told her. 

Lydia smiled, “I think I might actually miss the camera.” 

Stiles chuckled and gave her a crooked smile. The cab stopped and they got out on the sidewalk. Stiles held the door open for her and they were led to a candle lit table near the painting Lydia had fallen in love with when they discovered the restaurant. She sat down in her chair and smiled at Stiles. 

“How did you manage to get this table?” she asked him.

“I told them I was taking a very special lady out for a very special dinner and that this was her favorite painting in the place,” he told her. 

Their server took their drink and appetizer order. Lydia decided on white wine and Stiles got a Spanish imported beer to go with their steamed mussels in a spicy, saffron infused broth. 

Stiles and Lydia enjoyed their appetizer and dinner while talking about Lydia’s math class and how Stiles tripped over a cord in his public relations course and the entire class got a kick out of it in the middle of an exam. They talked about their plans for the next week or so and then about how the holidays were going to work this year. 

Dessert arrived on the table and sitting on top of Lydia’s usual torte was a sparkling diamond ring. Her green eyes widened and she looked up at Stiles who was smiling nervously. 

“Stiles? What…are…are you?” she stumbled over words trying to find the right phrasing. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She can’t believe she hadn’t seen this coming.

She refocused and Stiles was moving to her side of the table, picking up the ring from the top of the torte and getting down on one knee in front of her. 

“Lydia Martin, I have been in love with you since I was in third grade. I said in my sophomore year of high school that my ten year plan was to be your second husband, but here we are juniors in college and I know so much about you that I didn’t know and I want to be your first and last husband. I want to spend the rest of my life discovering you and seeing what other adventures the world holds for us. I love you Lydia Martin. Will you marry me?” he asked. 

Lydia felt tear pricking at the corner of her eyes and she nodded, “Of course. Yes of course Stiles.” 

He slipped the sparkling diamond ring on her finger and she leaned down to kiss him, her hands on either side of his face. 

Tables around them clapped and a blush spread across Lydia’s face. Stiles stood, kissed her, and moved back to his side of the table. The server appeared at the side of their table with Stiles’ camera in hand, “Congratulations you two.” She smiled, handed the camera over and left them. 

“I see the camera made it to our date after all,” she quipped. 

“But of course. I couldn’t not capture this moment,” he told her. 

“You weren’t scared I was going to say no?” she asked. 

A smirk appeared on Stiles’ face, “No, I was, but I was confident you’d say yes.”

Lydia shook her head, “Of course you were.” 

Stiles paid the bill after dessert and they left for home, her newly adorned hand in one of his and the camera that had captured every moment of their life together since that flight to Boston in his other hand. 

They took the cab home, fell into bed, and enjoyed a night full of cuddling and gentle, passionate celebratory sex. She woke up the next morning and made a video of her own. She filmed a little bit of Stiles, snoring away on both their pillows, one arm slung over his face. She filmed herself making breakfast. She kept it on while they ate. 

It was Lydia’s turn to capture a moment in their life with this camera. What better time to start than the first day of their life of as soon to be married couple? 

 

The camera would stay with them for the rest of their life. It captured the moment they became man and wife. It captured their graduation days from college. It captured Lydia’s first day at the biochemical engineering firm. It captured Stiles’ joy when his first social advocacy campaign took off. The camera captured their first major fight as a married couple. It captured the moment Lydia told Stiles’ he was going to be a father. The camera captured every important and none important moment in their life. It became an effortless and essential aspect of their life. Lydia spent her life being capture through his lens and she wouldn't have it any other way. 


End file.
